Only The Girl
by vanderwoodsen
Summary: [WIP] Seven year old Éowyn is disgusted when she has to take horseriding lessons from the incompetent Gríma. However, his thoughts aren't pure or innocent when it comes to the spirited young girl. Rated R for later chapters, please review!
1. The Children

Three children rode in the wide green plains of Rohan, racing each other on their fine horses. Two were male and the other a young girl. The boy who was sitting atop a proud stallion was Éomer, son of Éomund - and he was a newcomer to living in the Golden Halls of Edoras along with the young girl, his sister Éowyn, younger than him by four years.   
  
Their parents had recently died and their uncle, Theóden King of Rohan, has taken them in. Not out of pity, but because he loved them and adored his sister, Theódwyn. His son, twelve year old Theódred adored his two cousins and since they came to Edoras it was rare to see the threesome not together.   
  
Éomer was a tall lad of eleven, with wavy straw coloured hair and flashing dark brown eyes. He had a quick temper and loved to listen to lore of old, full of delicious stories about killing orcs and Rohan triumphing over evil men. Like all children of Rohan, he loved horses and riding was an especial activity. Although hasty, he treasured his seven year old sister and liked to think he protected her. Not that she needed or cared for it.   
  
Éowyn took after her brother and was also tall, with long, messy burnished gold that ran down her back. Her skin was paler than that of Éomer's, but she was always filthy, as she acted like a boy and felt no need for primping. Her eyes were large and full of unspoken passion - much like her mood, which was as changeable as the wind.   
  
Theódred and Éomer enjoyed Éowyn coming along on their hunts and games, as she didn't act any differently from them, and she was especially quick and fast which was brilliant fun when playing. As Éowyn had been brought up in the company of boys and men, she knew no differently. Her mother had been the same - a fine horsewoman and quick to temper, and it obviously had descended into her children's blood.   
  
When the two boys, who were close in age, went to learn how to swordfight, Éowyn followed. The men of the Golden Hall were amused at her feistiness, none more than the King himself, who indulged his niece, who he thought of as a daughter, in her surprising choice of pursuit. At first the men taught them all separately - thinking the young girl would be slow to learn and sluggish with a blade, but they soon found out she was as swift with a weapon as she was on horseback and possessed a special talent for the skill. Soon after, Éowyn was moved into the same lessons as her cousin and brother.   
  
The men of the court loved the three youngsters like their own bairns, and it was a purple gift to both sides when the men would teach them the lore of Rohan and Middle Earth, or sing to them old folk songs. Nothing pleased the King better than to watch the enlightened faces of the trio as they repeated the songs, or jested with each other in the fields. It warmed his heart to see Éomer and Éowyn flourish under the hazy sun of Edoras. The peasant folk adored them also, as they were free from any snobbery and regularly conversed with them and played with their own children.  
  
And so Éomer and Éowyn grew up, alongside their cousin, full of great songs, stories, friendship and love. But alas! One alone watched the three, and his thoughts were not so pure. 


	2. Poisoned Words

The children had never like Gríma Wormtongue, son of Galmód. The skeletal figure had always been lurking, ever-present but never a threat - as long as they could remember. Together, the trio had mocked him behind his curved back, Éomer being the worst offender. Theódred and Éowyn laughed heartily at the exaggerated impressions of Gríma that the stout Éomer executed, but none felt guilty, after all, he *was* a strange character.  
  
They often wondered why this dark creature lived in Edoras. He was the Kings advisor, seemingly, but Theóden himself appeared to treat the man as a nuisance. Éowyn often thought to herself why would her Uncle need an advisor, what did this queer man know that her Uncle did not? She voiced this concern once to Theódred. He shrugged his doughty shoulders and vaguely said that Gríma knew about doings in the North. They both pondered this for a few moments, but then forgot.   
  
Theódred was quieter and more thoughtful than the rash Éomer, and it was him who realised that his Father's advisor treated Éowyn differently from he and his male cousin. Theódred watched Gríma's eyes and manner towards the youngster and one day followed him into his Father's hall.  
  
"Master..." Gríma intoned - loping over to Theóden. Theóden watched from behind a heavy curtain. Theóden was sitting on his chair, talking to a man of the court. He looked up and nodded at the man to take leave for a few minutes.  
  
  
  
"Yes, Gríma?" Theóden turned his full attentions to Wormtongue, who slid nearer.   
  
"My sir, I think that the Lady Éowyn would perhaps benefit from some private horse riding lessons, as I notice she isn't as adept on a horse as she could be. May I..."   
  
Theódred strained his ears towards the conversation, as it was rather hard to hear from behind the drape. Éowyn not a good rider? Why, she was better than him, and he was many a year older! Theóden, cutting Gríma off, also took this route.  
  
"I was sure that Éowyn is a fine rider, but I have been busy lately, I haven't seen her current progress. Should I ask a Marshal to give her and the boys some lessons?" Theoden said this offhandedly, but Grima cut in quickly -  
  
"No Master, I don't think you would have to go through that trouble. The boys are fine riders, they need no lessons. I just think that the girl would benefit. I, in fact, am free tomorrow afternoon, that is, if you don't need me at the counsel, I could give the child some riding lessons." Theódred frowned. Gríma moved closer to the King, his hands clasped.  
  
The King got out of his chair and stood up. He shrugged and said to Gríma. "If you wish, Gríma. Tomorrow afternoon you may be permitted to give riding lessons to Éowyn. After that, you will dine with me and tell me if she needs more lessons. You need not come to my afternoon counsel." Theóden didn't voice the thoughts in his head, the ones that said he was glad he wouldn't have to deal with Gríma until later. He was getting irritating, always lurking about. Perhaps a ride tomorrow will be all the better for his demeanour. Gríma excused himself, and Theódred followed him.  
  
He didn't get far, as his cousins waylaid him by the door, just as Gríma had passed them. "Hullo! Where did you get to?" Éomer bellowed. Éowyn tripped towards him, speaking fast.   
  
"Theódred, come, let's go to Frama's. The dog is about to give birth to pups!" She took his hand in her own dry, hot palm and ran with him down the steps of the Golden Hall, with Éomer following.  
  
Dogs were plentiful in Rohan, but most were old and tired creatures, and it was very rare to see newborn pups. Theóden and Éomer watched in amusement as Éowyn hugged and kissed the puppies, getting all bloody and slimy. They pretended they didn't care about how sweet they looked, but in reality they were as childlike as Éowyn. After an hour of spending time with the pups and talking with Frama, the older girl whose dog had given birth, they left the tiny thatched cottage.   
  
It was still late afternoon when they left Frama's, and the trio didn't want to go back to the Golden Hall as yet. Instead, they went to the stable, where they collected their three horses. Éowyn's was, predictably, the smallest, and the youngest. His name was Avamel, and he was a swift light brown horse. Éomer's horse was a dark brown stallion called Cosar, and Theódred's was of a similar kind, called Erlos. Trotting out of the stable, the children rode to a place they liked sitting. It was on the top of a grassy hill on the road to Helms Deep, higher than Edoras giving them a vantage view of it and the fields of Rohan. Dreeping off their horses, they flopped onto the long green grass, while the horses chewed it beside them.   
  
"So, where were you when you disappeared earlier, Theódred?" Éomer enquired, lying down.   
  
  
  
"I was spying on Wormtongue, the leech." Éomer laughed and that caught Éowyn's attention.   
  
"What is it, brother?" Eowyn looked up, a daisy in her hand. She enjoyed making them, but her hands weren't as nimble with the fine stalks as she would have liked.  
  
  
  
"Theódred was spying on Wormtongue. So what did you do? You were away an age."   
  
Theódred was silent for a moment. The air was warm and the land was still before them. The silence was punctuated by Cosar snuffling. "I heard Worm saying to Father that Éowyn has to take riding lessons with him tomorrow."   
  
"What?! I'm a better rider than that Worm!" Éowyn yelled, screwing her fists together. "What would he say that for?!"   
  
Éomer interjected. "Because he's a slimy little rat, that's why. When you go to these lessons Éowyn -"   
  
Éowyn stood up fiercely, her cheeks red as russety apples. "I am, in no way, going to get horse riding lessons from that man - why, he can't even ride properly himself!"   
  
Theódred smiled wanly and said, "Éowyn, I heard my father agree, you can't break that. Not even if you dislike him. Maybe it will just be one lesson, and I'll make sure my Father watches you tomorrow night afterwards to prove to him you are able. I don't know why that Wormtongue wants you to take them... he's a strange man. I don't like him."   
  
Éomer nodded. "You mustn't disobey Uncle, Éowyn. Just suffer the lesson and we'll see what happens." Éowyn took a deep breath and plopped down onto the grass again. She didn't partake in the light conversation that followed, nor did she hear it - as inside, she was furious. 


	3. The Leech

Theóden told Éowyn she must go to the horse riding lessons that night, over supper. He felt slightly ill at ease at the fact that he was using Éowyn to avoid Gríma, but didn't see another solution to the problem. Gríma always seemed to be... well, *leeching* over him, and he didn't find the experience wholly comfortable. Anyway, Éowyn would perhaps learn something new, and he wouldn't have to face Wormtongue for another few days yet.   
  
That night Éowyn went to bed just as mad as she was earlier. When her Uncle told her she didn't have the heart to scream and kick and fuss, she was passionate, but not folly. Her brother and cousin shared a bedroom next to hers, she got Theódred's old bedroom, as it was smaller and when she and Éomer came to stay Theódred wanted to share a room with his cousin. It was late and she was wondering if she should go next door and tell Theódred and Éomer once more that she didn't want to do lessons with Gríma - but then realised that they could do nothing about it and there was no point. They would probably be sleeping anyhow.  
  
Thoughts ran through her head like Avamel over lush grass. She didn't exactly know why Gríma annoyed her so, or why his very presence made her flesh crawl; all she knew was that she didn't like him. Somehow, her heart told her he was a bad man. If she had learned anything from her Mother, a brave woman herself, it was to trust your instincts and never doubt what your heart was trying to tell you, even if your head said otherwise. Éowyn blew out her candle and saw smoke shadows in the darkness. She turned over in bed and settled down uncomfortably, to a slumber that bore no good dreams.   
  
Theodred and Eomer were not sleeping; both were talking quietly as not to wake Eowyn who they assumed was dead to the world.   
  
"I still don't know why Wormtongue wants Eowyn for riding lessons," Eomer muttered. "Even if she did need lessons, couldn't a Marshal give her them?"   
  
Theodred rolled over in his bed and yawned. "Yes, I don't know why either. Anyway, tomorrow isn't so far away now, I daresay it's the middle of the night and everyone else is sleeping." He dropped this unsubtle hint to his cousin, who had spoken about this matter all night. Theodred did care, but he also cared about his sleep!   
  
Eomer grunted in agreement, and both nodded off.  
  
* * *  
  
Sunlight shaded in through the wooden slats in the shutters. Bright rays clouded over Eowyn's face as she opened her eyes, squinting a little. Dawn had passed, and the sun was almost high in the sky. She had slept late.  
  
Eowyn didn't have anybody to dress her. Theoden originally had planned for his niece to be dressed and catered for by one of the Marshal's older daughters, or one of their wives, but Eowyn was independent and didn't care for somebody to wait on her. The seven year old was competent beyond her years and she dressed herself every morning, usually resulting in outfits that were either extremely clashing, or extremely awful. She wore trousers, almost unheard of in Rohan, but Theoden found it amusing. Eowyn loved her breeches, so much more comfortable than those ridiculous dresses with layers, frills and flounces! So annoying to wear when one was going riding. So, Eowyn dressed like her brother and cousin, and no-one thought anything of it. After all, she was hardly a fully-developed woman, but a young baby-child.  
  
That morning was no different from any others. She dressed herself, in dark green breeches and an old shirt of Theodred's. She didn't bother putting a waistcoat or hauberk on over the top of the shirt, it seemed warm enough. After quickly washing her face in the sink in the corner, and flinching from the ice-cold water, she mooched down to the room she normally breakfasted in.   
  
Theodred and Eomer looked up and her brother yelled at her when she came in. "Eowyn, how long have you been sleeping for? We've just finished our breakfast."   
  
She sat down on the wooden bench opposite them, and one of the women who cooked placed down a substantial bowl of porridge in front of her. She smiled in thanks and explained to Eomer that she must have been tired.  
  
"Not worried I hope?" Theodred said, a frown sitting on his eyebrows. "About Grima?" Eowyn shook her wavy head, her mouth full of oats.   
  
The minutes past by in childlike chatter, with Eomer insisting that they must go and visit Frama and the pups again. "We can train them! Train them to be like hunting dogs, who can fight!"   
  
"Yes, and I keep forgetting that dogs have hands to hold swords in, and they can sit on a horse properly without falling off," Theodred remarked drily, causing Eowyn to splutter with mirth, getting porridge all over Eomer.   
  
All of them were laughing when Grima walked into the room. Eowyn noticed him first and closed her mouth depleting the throaty sounds of hilarity.  
  
The flagstones echoed with the click of Grima's feet. "Ahhh… my Lady…I believe your Uncle told you about the riding lessons." He looked at Eowyns sullen face for some confirmation of this. When she didn't speak or make any move, he continued nonetheless. "Today, after lunch, you will come down to the stables and we will indulge in a little…" he gazed at Eowyn. "Riding lesson."  
  
Still no sound uttered from Eowyn's disgruntled lips. Grima smirked and nodded as a sign of goodbye. His black shoes clicked upon the floor, and the silence of the hall was punctuated by voices coming from Theodred and Eomer.  
  
* * *  
  
Lunch for Eowyn was spent in the hall eating meat, and staying silent apart from her Uncles kindly short conversation with her telling her that she could have dinner with him that night, after her lesson when the sun went down. It gave her some encouragement to do well in the riding lessons - if she did well, she would not need any more. She set out to the stables with a determined frown upon her fair features.  
  
Grima was already there, waiting. Nonplussed at Eowyn's delay (the talk with Theoden had rambled on slightly) he smiled broadly and told her to bring out her horse. Eowyn obeyed, not making eye contact. Stroking Avamel's sinewy calf, she guided the affable horse over to Grima.  
  
He cast his beady black eye over it. "Fine horse, my Lady Eowyn. Now mount it," he commanded quietly. Eowyn began to do as her instructor said, but as she put her foot into the stirrup, Grima stopped her, leaving her balancing on one stirrup, standing on one side of Avamel.  
  
"Eowyn, Eowyn, don't mount a horse like that. It may hurt the horse, see - you're only a girl, you musn't try and mount the horse the way the men do it. Here my Lady, let me help you." He put his hand on Eowyn's bottom and pushed her up onto the horse.  
  
"What are you doing?!" Eowyn cried when she was fully onto the Avamel. "Touching me?"   
  
Grima's eyes widened in innocence. "I was only pushing the Lady onto her horse, can one not train the Lady to mount a horse properly?"  
  
She gave him a withering look and cantered out of the stable, Grima following her upon his speedy black steed. 


End file.
